Page 14 of By the Sword
Sir Francis had said Jonathan and Richard were much of the same age, which would make him not yet thirty. The dark-brown rough-cut hair barely reached his shoulders. Dressed in a plain suit of well-cut mulberry broadcloth, somewhat crumpled no doubt from being stuffed in a saddle bag, he hardly fitted the picture of a dashing cavalier, if indeed he had ever cut that image. She considered that the plain, sober cut of his clothes and hair seemed a natural affectation rather than a disguise.
No doubt there were plenty of women who would find his lean, well-proportioned face more attractive than boyish good looks. With his lively eyes and quick smile, he demanded attention and respect. Only in repose did she notice the deepening lines and the shadows about the eyes that spoke of the hardship of his life.
Throughout the meal Sir Francis’ eyes hardly strayed from his grandson. However, the exertion of sitting at the table for a long meal proved too much for the old man. Several times Jonathan had glanced at his grandfather with great concern. Now as Sir Francis was overwhelmed by a coughing fit, Jonathan stood up.
‘Come, Grandfather. I’ll help you to your room.’
Sir Francis waved an apologetic hand at the assembly. ‘Forgive me, ladies. I will return Jon to you shortly.’
Nell collected Ann, who had been allowed to stay up to see her uncle, and the company adjourned to the terrace to enjoy thelast of the fine early summer day. Jonathan joined them, sitting beside his sister and Kate on the low wall where the women watched Tom throwing a ball with his small cousin.
Jonathan leaned his elbows on his knees and rested his chin on his hands. ‘He doesn’t have long, does he?’
Nell shook her head. ‘I doubt he will live to see you again.’ She reached out and touched his arm. ‘Giles writes that the King will be landing in Scotland. Is that true?’
Jonathan nodded.
Kate shivered as if a cool breeze had blown across the garden. ‘Will it all start again?’ she asked, unable to hide the bitterness in her voice. ‘Will this country never know peace?’
Jonathan looked from one woman to the other. ‘You know the answer to that,’ he said.
‘So are you going north to join the King?’ Nell demanded.
He smiled without humour. ‘Of course I am, Nell.’
‘One day, Jonathan Thornton, you will tempt fate once too often,’ his sister said. ‘And Giles…will Giles be in Scotland?’
When Jonathan nodded, Nell’s eyes brightened.
‘Then I must give you some letters to take to him.’
‘Of course.’
‘Do you suppose..?’ Nell began and broke off, looking up at her brother.
Jonathan slipped an arm around his sister, drawing her close. ‘Do I suppose Giles will come this way? I don’t know Nell. We have the King’s work to do. Write him your letters and I will carry them for you.’
‘Uncle Jon. Story?’ Ann tugged at his coat.
‘About how you took Horley Bridge,’ Tom put in.
Jonathan shook his head. ‘I will save Horley Bridge for another day, Tom. How about a tale of King Arthur and his knights?’
The corners of Tom’s mouth drooped but he brightened as Jonathan abandoned the women and sat down on the low step, his long legs crossed, with the children before him, looking up at him, their eyes wide, hanging on every word.
Kate exchanged a smile with Nell. For a soldier of fortune who carried the King’s Commission on deadly and secret business, Jonathan Thornton had a natural rapport with children.
***
As Nell harried the children off to bed, Jonathan remained seated on the low step looking out over the garden, conscious that Kate lingered in the soft evening light.
The coward in him silently begged her to follow the others inside. He would be gone before daybreak and the first she would know of what his grandfather intended would be a letter on his death. Would warning her make any difference?
The rustle of skirts told him she had risen to her feet and he stood to face her.
‘Mistress Ashley. Wait.’
She had started to walk toward the house but she stopped and glanced over her shoulder. ‘Sir Jonathan?’
